Out of Order
by Semmerie
Summary: When Syaoran Li kicked the vending machine one hot summer’s night, he didn’t get his change back. Instead, he got Kinomoto Sakura. [SS, Ongoing, 4 Chps]
1. Stark Raving Drunk

Out of Order

When Syaoran Li kicked the vending machine one hot summer's night, he didn't get his change back. Instead, he got Kinomoto Sakura. SS, Ongoing, 1 Chp

**1 **Stark Raving Drunk

Aah, good ol' Tokyo—the city that never slept. The ever-famous hotspot of Japan was forever bustling with people: the young, the old, and most definitely the working. If you ever wanted a peaceful night, you wouldn't get it unless you bought a sturdy set of earmuffs _and _soundproofed your house, because the traffic could be heard from miles away.

Tokyo was a paradise, with its tall buildings and dazzling lights.

…And Li Syaoran hated it.

He hated the traffic, he hated the smoke, he hated the annoyingly bright lights- he hated the basic fundamentals of how cities _worked._ Yet, here he was, slaving away in a cramped little apartment, which was tucked conveniently away in the very heart of the thing he hated.

Syaoran sighed, and unfastened yet _another _button on his crisp, tailored shirt. The heat was smothering. He had already adjusted the fan to operate at full blast, but all the contraption seemed to be accomplishing was blowing even more hot air into his face. Emitting a strange sound akin to frustration, the young man tried to ignore the uncomfortable temperature and continued stabbing at his laptop.

Papers were scattered all around him, and some were already making their descent to the floor. However, he did not pay heed to such matters. All that one could hear for a long while was the sharp, steady sound of typing. Syaoran's dark brown eyes were narrowed with concentration, focused solely on the screen.

Thirty, perhaps forty minutes later, a soft, wistful breeze fluttered in through the window, a rare glimpse of fresh air that managed to survive the toxic fumes of the highway. Momentarily stopping in his work, Syaoran breathed in deeply, calming himself.

He had this strange urge for coffee, though it was already deep into the night. Glancing out of the window and noting that it was half-past midnight, he pushed himself off his chair and stretched slowly, yawning.

"I'm beat," He said, as if to himself. He missed his life in Hong Kong more than ever—the tranquil, disciplined life he had with his mother and sisters, though they really annoyed him at times. He missed Meiling as well. She had moved to Tokyo in search of work too, and was now a well-paid accountant in another company. Sadly, with their busy schedules, they hadn't had much time to get together…

"I never thought working life would be this hard," He spoke to the air once more, rummaging around his desk for his keys. "I've practically become a hermit, cooped up in this _hole_ of an apartment everyday trying to complete my work." His voice trailed off into a grumble, and he yanked his door open, not even bothering to shut off his laptop.

The only thought that echoed in his mind was: Coffee.

He wanted it.

No, needed it.

It was like…brown gold.

Practically spurred on by the thought, Syaoran let his steps grow hurried, taking huge steps. He caught the lift just as it was closing and rushed in, pressing the Ground Floor button with more force than was necessary. Then, he leaned back against the wall, panting.

Suddenly, a chuckle sounded from across the contained area, and he lifted his eyes quizzically. …He hadn't been –that- obvious, had he? Great, now the whole world would know that Syaoran Li was addicted to coffee…

"Hello, Li-kun," piped a gentle-sounding voice. "Nice to see you've been surviving."

He blinked, and then recognized her. His tense expression relaxed almost immediately.

"Daidouji." He replied, his tone slightly friendlier. "I'm holding up well, I suppose. Going out tonight?" He continued politely, smiling slightly at her extravagant clothes.

The woman giggled. "Yes, as always. I've known you for almost three months, and you're still such a gentleman. I'm surprised you don't have girls hanging all over you yet." Syaoran looked a tad uncomfortable, but shrugged in response.

"I'm too busy working."

Tomoyo smiled. "I'm busy working too, but I still have time for leisure."

The lift stopped with a slight 'bing', and their conversation ended. Tomoyo smiled at Syaoran once more and stepped out of the lift, her high heeled shoes making a pleasant sound against the cool, hard marble.

"Well…hope you enjoy yourself," Syaoran said awkwardly.

She winked. "Of course I will." Turning around, she started down the hallway—but stopped in midtrack.

"…And Li-kun? Don't work yourself too hard, okay? A kawaii guy like you wouldn't look nice with eyebags. And besides, you'll never know when you _one true love_ would just spiral herself into your arms, ne?"

Syaoran snorted. Tomoyo just grinned mysteriously, and continued out of the two main doors. The young man watched her disappearing back with mild interest. Tomoyo was a good neighbor (and friend) to him—and was a rather pretty lady in fact, with her black, glossy hair and shining amethyst eyes…

His thoughts screeched to a stop, and he shook his head harshly.

…But he was NOT interested in her! She was just a friend, nothing more. Besides, she seemed to be taking an interest in some guy …Eriol Hiirwhatamajig, or something of the sort. In his personal opinion, he thought the guy was –annoying-, but he couldn't stop Tomoyo. Not when she was in predator mode.

_One true love, spiraling into my arms?_ He thought almost cynically, raising an eyebrow.

_Not me, definitely not for me._

Making a hundred and eighty degree turn, he started down the other side of the hall to the glorious public drink dispenser, turning his thoughts to something more constructive. Like coffee.

Mmm.

Syaoran reached into his pockets and scooped out about a handful of loose change, counting out a dollar before he even reached the machine. Then, slipping the coins into the slot, he watched as the red, bright numbers gradually change from 10c to 1. The buttons lit up.

C-O-F-F-E-E, one said. He could smelt the aroma already. Reaching out greedily, Syaoran pressed the button. Now—in a few seconds, the machine would dispense the cup and from the tube would emerge hot, creamy coffee…

But nothing happened. Syaoran waited some more, but when –still- nothing happened, he got a tad bit suspicious. Then:

BEEP, the machine called.

Out-of-order.

_Out of Order._

**Out of Order.**

Something inside the contraption seemed to gurgle, and the box emitted a loud whirr before all the lights died off. Syaoran Li, the self-proclaimed worshipper of coffee, practically died right then.

_OUT OF ORDER?__ Who—what—WHY!_

Out of order, the machine had said. The coffee had been denied him. Syaoran cursed softly. He pressed the button again and again, but there was no response. The machine was well and thoroughly konked.

A thought flitted across his mind. _My change!_

Changing his course of action, Syaoran twisted the change knob. Once. Twice. Three times. Four. Nothing came.

"…!"

Restraining the urge to curse once more, all the poor guy could do was let out a frustrated growl. Irritation boiled up, coursing through his veins madly. All the stress had been locked up for quite awhile, and all the tension was just looking for a suitable outlet to unleash itself upon. It was all too easy to get him riled nowadays.

True to his temper, Syaoran kicked the vending machine harshly and without warning.

_Thunk_

He breathed in harshly, directing a solid death glare at the cause of his anger venomously.

He was just about to kick it again when a loud thud suddenly sounded from not too far away, causing him to stop abruptly. His eyes flicked sideways.

A moan reached his ears, and his eyebrows shot up. Inching around a corner, he looked around. It sounded like someone was seriously hurt…

"…H-hey, mista…"

Syaoran turned around swiftly, so fast he almost heard his bones crack.

There, on the floor—was a girl. She seemed to be around his age group, adding or subtracting a few years. Silky auburn hair framed her face, reaching past her chin. Strands had been matted to her forehead by sweat, probably caused by the heat, and she was on the floor, knees down, and heaving. Syaoran rushed over to her, putting a hand gently on her back.

"Are you alright?" He asked quietly. He wasn't used to talking to strangers, but this girl seemed to be in dire need of help. Her shoulders shook slightly at the contact, and the girl looked up, staring straight at Syaoran.

He was confronted a pair of impossibly emerald eyes, shocking in their intensity, peering right into his very soul. Blinking in shock, Syaoran did a double take and choked on his own breath. Blood rushed up to his cheeks, and feeling appalled at his own behavior, he forced himself to calm down.

"Erm…M-miss…" He stuttered out, mentally kicking himself. As he observed her face, her eyes seemed to fade from emerald to a dull, foresty green. The girl moved jerkily to the side, her movements sluggish. Clutched tightly in her right hand was a large beer bottle.

It was emptied, and she was obviously drunk. All urgency fading away, Syaoran let his eyes roll up into the air. _Another drunkard,_ he thought tiredly, looking down at her in mild pity. _So much for dire straits…_

"Mista…wassyer name?" She slurred, eyelids closing, then opening again.

"…You may call me Li. You're drunk, Miss." Syaoran said curtly, but gently. "Decidedly drunk."

She looked up at him again, looking almost pitiful. Something twisted in his stomach, and Syaoran directed his gaze away. She was just a –drunk-, and she was wasted! What in the world was he supposed to feel for her? Compassion!

The girl shifted, getting up. Her steps were wobbly, and she seemed to be having difficulty. Syaoran watched dispassionately.

Her frame was delicate and frail, and she was wearing a creamy, peach-colored dress, which accented the color of her skin perfectly. In fact, she looked like she had gone for a dinner party—not like a person who had gone out and deliberately drowned herself in beer…

"I'm not drunk, jus' dizzee! I have a vhery high tohlerance fah alchohool, ifh you mush know…" Her voice was soft and lilting, gentle, even in her state of drunkenness. Syaoran found himself offering her an arm. It was being polite, and a respectable person like him couldn't leave someone like her out alone, stranger or not.

"It's okay. Where do you live? I can help you back, or call a cab…" He offered, smiling faintly. She clutched onto his arm like it was a lifeline, and her fingernails pressed sharply into his flesh. Syaoran winced, but did not pull his hand away.

"So warm…" She suddenly murmured, resting her head on his shoulder. Stiffening, Syaoran almost jolted from the touch. With their close proximity, he could smell the perfume she wore—it smelt faintly of strawberry, even though the scent was heavily outweighed by the stench of alcohol.

_She's drunk, _he thought forcefully once more, just to remind himself.

"Miss…?" He inquired again, trying to coax an answer out of her.

She blinked dazedly, eyes half open. The beer bottle was swinging precariously from side to side due to her unsteady grip, and he pried the item away from her, setting it to one side carefully. The young woman seemed to take a few seconds to collect her thoughts, then answered.

"Neeehh? K…er. Kinomoto Sak…Saku…"

However, in mid-sentence, unconsciousness seemed to claim her. Growing limp, she collapsed into Syaoran's outstretched arms, well and truly out cold. Syaoran, shocked out of his wits, teetered wildly for several seconds under the extra weight, but managed to maintain his balance well enough. Then, looking down at the motionless girl in his hands, he sighed.

She _did _say her name was Saku, right?

Or was it Saki?

"…I guess…Oh, well, …oh _man._" He said, berating himself. "Syaoran, you stupid stupid stupid…"

There was only one option left: Bring Miss Kinomoto, or whoever she was, up to his apartment and hope she woke up soon…

Giving up all hope of ever getting his coffee fix, Syaoran Li surrendered to his fate and started carrying Kinomoto 'Saku' to the lift as carefully as he could.

This drunk woman problem, he could deal with when she woke. For now, he had to try and finish his work before it hit three in the morning.

**To be continued.**

(Please read and review! Hope it's not too crappy.)


	2. Her name is SakuRA Kinomoto

Out of Order

When Syaoran Li kicked the vending machine one hot summer's night, he didn't get his change back. Instead, he got Kinomoto Sakura.

**2 **Her name is SakuRA Kinomoto

"Shit," Syaoran cursed softly, fumbling for his keys. He'd bought this pair of office slacks because it had _style_, but he'd never expected deep pockets to cause him so much trouble. Frowning, he clumsily used his free hand to try and fish said set of keys out of his pocket once more, but he lost his grip and it tumbled to the floor, metal clinking against metal almost tauntingly. He let out a sigh.

Come to think of it, everything had been causing him trouble lately, and it was only Wednesday! On Monday, he had been picked on by his supervisor for _no _particular reason at all, on Tuesday; a –huge- batch load of paperwork seemed to have dumped itself nicely into his IN tray—which he was still struggling to finish now, by the way…and today…

Syaoran closed his eyes, feeling pressure build up in his temples painfully. _I don't even want to think about today, _he decided, extremely grumpy now due to his severe lack of caffeine. If he didn't get his fix by morning…he'd be very, very disagreeable, that was for sure.

He looked down at the cargo situated in his arms, frowning slightly. All this seemed to be her fault somehow, although it wasn't really. She was a contribution, a small factor to the overall problem. As if feeling his gaze on her, 'Saku' shifted slightly towards him, resting her right cheek gently on his chest. Her slow, drawn out breaths tickled his arm, and Syaoran shivered involuntarily.

With a sudden sheer resolve to get her off him, he stooped down and snatched the ring of keys off the floor at the speed of lightning. Then, jamming one of them into his door's lock, he gave it a giant twist and pushed it open. The wooden door slammed into the neighboring wall with a large bang. The noise echoed throughout the apartment, but after a few seconds, everything faded into silence. Taking quick and steady steps, Syaoran made his way over to living room.

He nudged the girl onto the couch gently. At first, she tensed, as if missing the human contact, but relaxed quickly and burrowed herself into the armrest, relishing the soft material. Retrieving a blanket from his own bed, Syaoran tucked her in, then stepped back, letting out a breath he didn't know he had held.

He looked sideways, at the window. The view from outside had been blocked by the drawn curtains. Fluorescent light reflected off the smooth glass, and he soon found himself looking at his own reflection.

His cheeks were still tinged with red.

Jerking his head away, he looked resolutely at the carpet, hands slowly clenching into fists.

_A stranger, just a stranger...she'll be gone by this time tomorrow. _

Syaoran let the thought repeat over and over in his mind. When the strange feeling had finally faded away, he returned to his desk and threw himself into his work. His typing was faster now, and fingers stabbed at the keys more viciously then normal.

He worked late into the night, and by the time he was finished, the first rays of sunlight had already broken into the dark sky. Weary and sleep deprived, the young man ran a hand thorough his chocolate-colored hair, tousling it up even further. He felt like the dead, but at least he was done.

Another hand blindly reaching for his alarm clock, his fingers configured the device to ring at eight am out of habit. After this was done, Syaoran dragged himself to his room. Letting his head fall roughly onto a pillow, he let his eyelids close (finally) before falling into a deep, fatigue-induced sleep.

Not surprisingly, his dreams were of coffee.

* * *

She felt the first rays of sunshine warm her cheeks, and the unwelcome light seared her vision red. Groaning, she pushed herself up. Her throat was sore and scratchy, and she felt like she'd swallowed several mouthfuls of gravel. With her eyes scrunched up tight, 'Saku' let a pained whimper escape her lips.

"I hate hangovers…" she murmured.

She sat there, still as stone, adjusting herself to the light before finally opening her eyes. What she saw, however, was unfamiliar, and confusion filtered into her mind.

"…Where am I?" She asked croakily, but there was no one to answer. The young woman, deciding to investigate, pushed herself up with effort. Her limbs were sore all over, and seemed to be filled with lead.

After awhile, it struck her that moving wasn't such a great idea.

"Urgh…" Her stomach churned uncomfortably, and she could almost feel her face turn a sickly green. Dizziness and urgency took over just then, and her legs suddenly reacted—escorting her quickly to the nearest sink.

* * *

_7:59, _the bright green numbers screamed. The figure sprawled onto the bed did not move—Syaoran Li's mind was clearly still suspended deep in the depths of his dreams. His legs were tangled tightly with the bed sheets, which had somehow dislodged themselves a few hours ago. His free hand was clutching a pillow to his body tightly, and his face was relaxed for once, free of the stress that plagued him during the day.

The numbers changed over abruptly. _8:00, _said the screen, and a shrill ringing sound sliced through the morning air, shattering the stillness immediately. From his spot on the bed, the young man moaned pitifully, slamming a pillow onto his head. Pushing the material into his ears, Syaoran tried to will the sound away. Unfortunately, the alarm went on.

A huge flurry of rustling began as he reluctantly disentangled himself from the warm mass of sheets. His eyelids felt awfully heavy, and sleepiness hung over his head like a thick, endless fog.

"I hate mornings," he grumbled, shutting the alarm off with the quick slam of a fist, which he was all too glad to do. Yanking his tie and a fresh set of clothes off their hangers, he rushed into the bathroom and set about his morning duties. Making sure the door was shut; he shrugged off his clothes and stepped into the shower.

Syaoran loved having showers, though he had no idea why. He had no time to dally this time, though— and after a quick once over with a bar of soap and shampoo, he turned the shower on. The water that rained down on his body was crisp and cold, waking him up immediately. The young man stayed in the cubicle for a few minutes longer before making his exit. Snatching a towel off a rack, he dried himself quickly before yanking on the bottom part of his office wear.

Brushing his teeth and putting on the top part of his outfit only took up a few minutes. Once all that was done, Syaoran rushed out of the room; intending to scrimmage about for a quick bite to eat. To his surprise, there was a strange smell of breakfast in the air, something warm and delicious. It almost made his mouth water right then…

…But he _never _cooked, and didn't have anyone to do so for him either.

Did he?

Eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion, Syaoran looped his tie carelessly around his neck before stepping into the kitchen.

"Who's there?" His voice low and cautious, and the young man edged further across the room.

One eyebrow shot up when he spied the dining table, prepared with food for two. A quick scan around the room found nothing else, though. This was strange, very strange indeed…

"Good morning!"

The voice was clearly intended to welcome, but it gave him a gigantic scare instead. Knocked off guard, Syaoran whirled around, intending to hit whoever the intruder was with his fists alone. However, what he saw thoroughly floored him.

It was that pair of emerald eyes again, no more clouded by alcohol. They were dazzling, and his heart started thumping in his chest loudly.

Syaoran licked his lips, which had gone dry all of a sudden.

"Er…" he said incredulously. Wasn't this the girl he had brought home the night before? What in the world was she doing, cooking breakfast! She was supposed to be having a _hangover._

"You're…Kinomoto Saku, right?" Syaoran asked tentatively, scratching his head in confusion. The girl shook her head, smiling.

"I'm Kinomoto SakuRA, actually. …Erm…" She continued, cheeks flushing. "Thank you for taking me in yesterday. I kind of borrowed the sink and some panadol this morning, if you know what I mean…so I thought that breakfast was the least I could do." The young woman, now known as Sakura, looked down at the floor in embarrassment.

Syaoran flushed as well. Holding his hands up awkwardly, he tried to reassure her. "No, no, it's perfectly alright," he flustered, growing more and more nervous by the minute. "You shouldn't have cooked breakfast, really— I'm not very hungry in the morning—"

His stomach decided to voice its discontent right at that very moment, exposing his lie immediately.

Syaoran would have dug his own grave if he could, but all he managed to do right then was gaze pointedly at the floor as well, cheeks burning. The silence was extremely uncomfortable, and the seconds crawled by as the two struggled to overcome the tension.

Sakura voiced out first. "…Breakfast, then?"

It seemed all too surreal –and- crazy to be true, but Syaoran just nodded silently. After a while, both of them seated themselves at the table and tucked in, eating each mouthful quietly. Syaoran, munching idly on a piece of egg, noted that Kinomoto Sakura, in actuality, was a pretty good cook...

"I'm Li. Li Syaoran, if you can't remember last night." He said after awhile, finishing the last of his meal. Sakura, on the other side of the table looked up, expression mildly guilty.

"I must have been totally out of it," she said, tone apologetic. "I'm so sorry—for all the inconvenience I've caused." She brushed a stray strand of auburn hair behind one ear, breaking out in a small, shy smile. "…Nice to meet you, Li-san."

Syaoran found it hard not to smile as well. "Same." He trailed off, then started again. "Well, I'm just curious, but how did you get so drunk, Sak—er—Kinomoto-san?" He kicked himself mentally for the slip up. Where had his manners gone!

"You can call me Sakura if you like..." She said teasingly, emerald eyes mischievous. But after that, her expression turned secretive. "I prefer not to say, though." she said guardedly, looking at Syaoran. "Is that okay…? I just feel kind of weird talking about it." Her hands twitched under the table, obviously uncomfortable. Syaoran decided not to press her.

"Ah. In that case, I'd better be going. I've got work starting in half-an-hour," He informed her. Sakura nodded and stood up as well, getting ready to leave. At this, something inside him protested reluctantly. Following his instincts, Syaoran put his hand on her shoulder, holding her back.

A rush of nervousness suddenly overcame him and he felt the blood rush up to his cheeks once more. "I've got a car, you know. I could give you a lift to your place."

He mentally kicked himself again. _…why am I even asking her! She –can- walk home by herself. Besides, I'll probably never see her again._ He fiddled with the cuffs of his pressed sleeves, unbuttoning and re-buttoning them frantically. _I've practically degraded myself to the level of a love-sick school boy…_

She looked back, expression thoughtful. A smile settled itself upon her lips, and the whole room seemed to light up along with her.

"You're such a gentleman, Li-san. I'm surprised you don't have girls hanging all over you." Sakura said, voice gentle, yet slightly teasing.

…He blinked. Syaoran, taken aback, let his mouth hang open slightly at her words.

"You remind me of someone. One my friends," He said after awhile, still gaping. "She said the almost same thing yesterday."

"For real?" Sakura said, intrigued. "That's definitely weird…Hoooeee…"

"Hooooeeee?" Syaoran echoed, his lips curling up into a smile. Sakura blushed.

"Childhood habit…"

And holding a pleasant conversation, both exited Syaoran's apartment.

Syaoran led the way to his vehicle, and slid carefully in the driver's seat. Sakura made herself comfortable in the passenger seat beside his, and he started the car. The engine started, humming softly. Sakura told him her address without much prodding, and soon, they were right in front of the area she specified.

_Far too soon, _a tiny part of Syaoran's mind thought, but he squashed the notion immediately. Instead, he forced himself to smile.

"Thanks again, Li-san," Sakura said, bowing politely. "I'll never forget your kindness."

Syaoran nodded in return. "Take care of yourself, Sakura. See you soon, if we ever meet again." Something inside him ached with longing, but it was ignored. The young woman graced him with another mega-watt smile, and without warning bent forward and planted a customary polite on his cheek.

"See you," she said softly, and started away.

Syaoran, unfortunately, was stunned into silence, and stayed that way until Sakura had long gone. After he had overcome his state of disbelief, he ran a hand through his hair, baffled.

_I'll probably never see her again, _he thought again forcefully, banishing all other thoughts from his mind as he restarted the engine. He couldn't seem to insert the ignition key properly, though…

His hands were shaking way too much.

…and he was late for work.

Why didn't he care?

**To be Continued.**

(Wow! Thanks for all the reviews, guys. If you could comment on this one, that's be great as well. I need advice to improve terribly…Hope –this- chapter ain't too stinky too, heh.

…sorry for the bad word at the beginning of the chapter.)


	3. Customer Services

Out of Order

When Syaoran Li kicked the vending machine one hot summer's night, he didn't get his change back. Instead, he got Kinomoto Sakura.

**3 **Customer Services

It was morning. The polluted air from down below had somehow dissipated during the night, and everything felt fresh and new. Cars that had been left outside since the day before were coated with a sparkling sheen of morning dew, and the sun that was just emerging into the sky painted the horizon a soft, sweet orange.

In the morning, even objects of man held a semblance of beauty. The tall, high rise buildings were like giant mirrors, reflecting the sunrise in all its glory. The city stirred to wakefulness slowly, and the streets soon filled with people again as the air warmed.

Morning had come, bringing with it a new beginning.

…Syaoran heaved another monstrous sigh as the phone rang again with ear-damaging shrillness. Even coffee wasn't able to help this time—not when he had been subject to this torture since _seven. _Gritting his teeth, he picked up the phone after a significant effort. He hated mornings. Mornings were bad and deceitful.

"Moshi _moshi_! You've just reached the phone line of _Tomoeda__ Technical Services_-- How can I help you?"

Seriously, this job should have been reserved for a girl. A cheerleader girl, actually. For if Syaoran Li, descendant of legendary business tycoon Clow Reed had to say 'Moshi _moshi!_' one more time…

"Syaoran? The coffee mixes are totally out! What have you been **doing**? It's only eleven! Eleven AM!"

Startled, the young man almost dropped the receiver. Aiming a well-placed glare at his colleague, he mouthed a very big _Not now, Takashi!_ before hurriedly pressing his ear to the phone.

"Sorry Ma'am, but could you please repeat that? Yes, I did catch the part about the television 'fizzing and exploding'…_no, _I don't think it was because the remote was rigged…"

It had been at least a week, and true to his expectations, Syaoran had caught no sight of Sakura at all. Something inside him crowed triumphantly with a huge "Ha, I told you so!", but the rest of him just felt despondent.

It was okay at first; really.

But when he found himself mistaking _every _auburn haired female on the street for the emerald eyed lady (which almost always led to very, very embarrassing encounters), it finally dawned on him that his little...problem…was getting a tad too big for even himself to ignore. What was worse was: There was no solution to be found.

The only thing he could bury himself in was work, and that was exactly what he did.

"_Yes, _Ma'am, I'm sure your kids will be able to survive without television for a few hours. Tell you what- I'll ask our technician to come over to your place around this evening to check things up. Eh?…Too long to wait?"

At the opposite cubicle in the office, Miharu Chiharu watched fearfully as her neighboring colleague grew redder in the face by the second. Her chocolate-haired friend now wore a rather murderous expression, and his hands were busy grinding the nib of a fountain pen into dust. Her eyes darted to the whole row of empty coffee cups lining the redwood desk. The amount of coffee Syaoran normally drank was approximately in ratio to the amount of stress he was feeling, and looking at the statistics… this meant trouble, lots of trouble.

"I'm an incompetent worker? Why _thank _you, Ma'am. I'm sure the company would appreciate the feedback. And _NO, _I don't think I'm being smart, Ma'am…"

Wincing, she slowly inched out of her office compartment. Balancing files and several checkbooks with both hands, she walked as fast as she could whilst maintaining her dignity to the compartment across the room.

"Psst, _Takashi!_" The woman hissed, walking sideways into the door. "Syaoran. Rogue call. Exploding!"

The addressed Takashi looked up from his work, frowning slightly. The man was quite relaxing to look at (compared to Syaoran), to say the least—uncombed inky-black bangs spilling sloppily over his eyes, the crumpled looking office shirt complete with a rather crooked looking tie…eyebags a mile long…

Chiharu winced again. _Alright, so he's in bad shape as well._

It didn't stop her from blushing when his hand landed on her shoulder, however. The secretary froze when the hand proceeded to squeeze reassuringly, and she looked up into a pair of smiling eyes.

"He already drank all the coffee." Yamazaki Takashi replied, looking sheepish. "But in honor of our friendship, I will try to prevent him from getting fired."

Chiharu, still riveted by his smile, could only nod jerkily. Biting her lip, she looked down at the ground.

"Really sorry, Takashi. I would do it myself, but--"

Takashi just waved dismissively, cutting her off. "It's okay. Syaoran isn't _that _hard to calm down. You should know that…we were all from the same elementary school! And you and I go waaayyy back to kindergarten." He patted her again on the shoulder, smiling cheerily.

The young woman hesitated, then conceded a smile. "True."

"And for this, I get to tell you where coffee came from at lunch! Did you know that coffee beans are actually the congealed eggs of a legendary bird which is rumored to be affiliated with fire? You know, the phoenix? …Hm, Speaking of phoenixes…"

Chiharu twitched. For all the charm Takashi had, he just couldn't stop talking, could he? How in the world did he manage such long sentences without stopping to take a breath?

"I thought you said at _lunch."_

"…Phoenixes are quite interesting creatures…"

"Takashi…"

"…they're distant relatives of kangaroos…"

"OUT."

Pushing him out into the corridor, the secretary gave her childhood friend a complimentary shove down the aisle and watched hawk-eyed while he made his way over to Syaoran.

Then, the woman visibly relaxed, breathing out a sigh.

"Why did I fall for such a jabbering idiot?"

_Because you did._

Her dreamy smile was plain for all to see as she exited Yamazaki Takashi's compartment a few minutes later, taking quick, steady steps towards the meeting room.

* * *

"Yes, Ma'am, you _may _speak to my manager. Could you please wait a few minutes? I think he's entertaining another call…"

Syaoran removed the phone from his ear, closing his eyes as a torrent of insults came flooding out of the earpiece. The calls seemed to get more personal day by day- or was it just his temper fraying to its last?

When the noise stopped, he put the phone to his ear again.

"_Yes_, I was listening, _Ma'am_. The manager will be able to take over in a moment, if you don't **mind**…"

He jerked the phone away from his ear another time before the woman across the line could empty a whole assortment of colorful language into his ear once more. Glaring at the button connected to his boss's hotline, he jabbed it with a finger several times, but to no avail.

_Where is that good-for-nothing…_

The fountain pen he had been venting his frustrations on had long ceased to be in one piece. Breathing in one more time, Syaoran was about to attempt to talk to the woman again when the phone was snatched out of his hands.

"What the-!"

Looking up in shock, he could only gape as the intruder took up the receiver and started delivering placating comments with the greatest of ease.

"Ma'am? I'm sorry—you must be _terribly _flustered waiting for your call to be transferred…tell you what, I'll try to free the line for you. Call again in fifteen minutes!"

Before the customer could protest, Yamazaki Takashi slammed down the phone and delivered a piping hot container of frothy cappuccino into Syaoran's hands. Then, disconnecting the phone, his childhood friend grabbed a free chair and plopped himself down beside him.

Syaoran blinked, then smiled haggardly.

"Thanks, Takashi."

Lifting the cup to his lips, he relished the feeling of warm coffee sliding down his throat, drugging his senses and calming him completely as music would to a savage beast. Sinking into his chair, the chocolate-haired man breathed out contentedly, the liquid completely drained.

"Sometimes, I wonder what I would do without friends like you."

The other man grinned. "Chiharu takes half the credit. She's the one who noticed that the alarm bells were ringing—and she practically forced me into getting coffee for you."

Syaoran grinned back. "And I thought she was only good for throttling you when you spouted rubbish!"

Takashi mock-huffed, drawing himself up exaggeratedly.

"She's got good observational skills too…and I do NOT spout rubbish! My sources are true and honorable, thank you very much."

Syaoran raised an eyebrow.

"Only you would think that your brain made a true and honorable source, my friend."

They both laughed, and the stress caused by their work slowly eased away.

"Well…y'know, you're looking pretty washed out lately. Distracted." Pushing himself up, Yamazaki ruffled his friend's hair, much to said friend's annoyance. "Take care of yourself, okay? Gotta get back to work. Toodles!"

Syaoran fell silent, watching as his friend slowly disappeared into the maze of office compartments. _Stop thinking about Sakura, _he thought to himself firmly, getting up to reconnect the phone. _Work is work, and after-work is after-work. It's not use longing if there's no chance of meeting her again, anyway._

His smile faded into grim resolution as he reaffirmed himself. Placing the drained coffee cup Takashi had given him along the row that had been forming on his desk, Syaoran straightened his collar and waited for the phone to ring.

But to his surprise, the plastic contraption only beeped, and a robotic-like voice filtered through the air and into his ears.

_Li Syaoran, summoned to the managers office on urgent business. Please proceed immediately._

…?

Syaoran blinked, getting up. Weird, he had never been summoned to the office before. Exiting his compartment, he made his way down the aisle and into the office elevator, going up to the topmost floor. As the lift clocked up the numbers, he let his thoughts wander.

_Am I gonna be fired or something? _His mind thought detachedly, sending his legs into a slow, leisurely walk. Syaoran vaguely felt his hand close in upon a door handle before pulling.

He still felt dazed when he entered the room.

"Hello, my cute little cousin."

The dreamy feeling abruptly fled when he caught sight of Eriol Hiiragazawa reclining in the leather office chair. Ah, yes. Eriol, the bane of his life, the thorn of his flesh- who was also coincidentally his boss who was having less than platonic relations with his best friend, Tomoyo. He personally hoped that his cousin would somehow burn and die before the two got engaged or something, but that was being too morbid, wasn't it? Funny, how they were related and yet so contrasting in personality.

Eriol smirked aggravatingly, disrupting Syaoran's dark train of thought. The young man glared for the billionth time that day and drew himself up stiffly.

"Why am I here?"

The midnight haired business man looked thoroughly wounded.

"Not even a 'hello', Syaoran-kun? I'm hurt…and to think we are related!"

Syaoran's gaze grew ever more dark and venomous.

"I've no time for this, Hiiragazawa. Spending working hours appeasing dissatisfied customers and their problems leave no room for any good, happy feelings, you know."

Yes, he was feeling particularly acidic today. Eriol, however was unfazed. Smiling like always, he continued on politely.

"From now on, you're hardly going to answer any more calls, dear cousin. That I assure you." Syaoran blinked, visibly perking.

"Really?" He asked, disbelieving. "You're actually cutting me some slack?"

Eriol nodded slowly, grinning like a pleased cat. _He's up to something, I just _know_ it,_ a part of Syaoran thought, but the notion was quickly forgotten as his mind was flooded by something akin to relief.

"Should seem so. Anyway," he continued, ignoring his cousin's look of joy, "I've got someone for you to meet. She is the daughter of a very high-standing member of the parliament—Fujitaka Kinomoto, head of economy, remember?—and she's here on behalf of him to check out the company."

Fujitaka Kinomoto? That sounded familiar, somehow. Syaoran furrowed his brow, silently thumbing through the pages of his memory. He had heard that name somewhere before…but where? Try as he might, he just couldn't place it.

"I want you to show her around, get to know her, and _leave a good impression. _There cannot be a slipup in this, understand? I'm choosing you because you're good in social relations and …charming with ladies too, but one fumble could cause our whole company's hard-earned reputation to tumble down."

The company manager watched gleefully as Syaoran's happiness immediately crumbled into dust, and waited for his cousin's mind to slowly process the information.

"I-I'm supposed to do _what?"_

"Show her around, make small talk, do the company proud."

Syaoran floundered, effectively stunned.

"But!"

"I'm trusting you on this one, Syaoran-kun. Don't let me down." Eriol stood up and gave the other a friendly slap on the back, cackling to himself.

_I'm going to kill you, _Syaoran swore. _Slowly and painfully.__ If it's the last thing I ever do…_

"Whatever," He finally growled, slapping his cousins hands away. "Let's…just get it over with."

Oh, the things he did to escape Customer Service…

Eriol nodded.

"You may come in now, Sakura."

_Sakura?_

Syaoran turned around, just as someone entered the room from behind them. Dizzying disbelief was flooding through his body at a hundred miles per second—was that _her? _The Sakura Kinomoto that he had found drunk naught but a week ago?

It would be a miracle, but now, it didn't seem as impossible as before.

The man looked up, and found himself staring into the most beautiful eyes in the world.

**To be continued.**

(Reeeviieewww please? Review my pathetic story? –sniff-

…I'm pretty sure it's Miharu Chiharu…

And I'm pretty sure it's Yamazaki Takashi.

Right?

Please tell me I'm right…

Sorry for lateness! –bows-)


	4. Black forest cappuccino, Coming right up

**Out of Order**

_When Syaoran kicked the vending machine one hot summer's night, he didn't get his change back. Instead, he got Kinomoto Sakura._

**4 **Black forest cappuccino, Coming right up

Syaoran sputtered, emerald eyes piercing his brown ones through. His heart did a somersault, three double flips, and then proceeded onwards to execute several other reality-defying acrobatics that sent his blood racing. Suddenly, he couldn't breathe normally anymore.

_Sakura! It's Sakura! _His sense screamed, trying to pull him back to semi-consciousness, but the rest of him was already off, suspended by disbelief and dreams.

The girl in front of him raised an eyebrow, waiting for his response. She was the one, alright—Sakura Kinomoto, the girl he had found drunk beside the vending machine. The one he had been thinking about ever since he met her. The one who was making his stomach do flipflops, the one who had the silkiest looking auburn hair, the one—

"Ahem," Eriol coughed offhandedly, _loudly, _and tapped the wooden table surface, _hard_. Just for good measure.

Syaoran, startled, jumped in his chair—but covered the movement flawlessly with a smile. Even though his mind was still screaming, running in circles and shouting for joy, his body language never betrayed what he was really feeling. In fact, whatever he did portrayed a perpetual sense of composure, gentleness, and charm; the same charm he used to lure many women into his arms.

Get up from his chair, he lowered his eyes respectfully, bowing slightly in the way formal businessmen did.

His cousin, sensing that everything was back to normal, smiled widely and went on with business.

"Welcome to Tomoeda Corporation, Miss Kinomoto. I hope you'll find your experience here a pleasant one. May I introduce your guide for this week, Li Syaoran…?"

With butterflies fluttering in his digestive canal, Syaoran looked up. _Get yourself a grip, _he told himself one last time. _Haven't you done this thousand of times before!_

"Pleased to make your acquaintance." Bending forwards in a graceful swoop, he caught hold of her hand and pressed his lips to the smooth, cool, skin.

"I hope my services will meet up to your expectations…Miss Kinomoto."

He looked up, smiling again meaningfully. However, the young lady in front of him did not return his greeting but instead froze, eyes widening in shock. Her hand which was enveloping in his stiffened, and with a rather unwomanly jerk, she yanked her hand roughly away. Syaoran, caught off his guard by the sudden movement, fell backwards and hit the table behind him with a large bang. An acute pain rushed up his spine at the impact.

"Owwww…" The young man winced, straightening. His lower back throbbed, protesting against that movement. That was certainly going to leave a bruise…

…And wasn't _exactly_ the spark of recognition he was looking for, but…

Eriol, unable to comprehend what was happened, just stared at the couple in front of him awkwardly.

Sakura, on the other hand, seemed to be oblivious to the situation before her, her emerald eyes still glazed over. However, she snapped out of her reverie after a few seconds, and seeing the chaos she had set off, flushed a thorough red.

A hand flew to her mouth. "_Hoooeee_…"

Tense silence followed for another few minutes. Fortunately, Eriol managed to smooth the situation out, and after stammering a greeting as well, she allowed Syaoran to guide her to her chair, before getting his own. Then, the young man let his mind drift off while Eriol did all the talking.

Safe to say, the meeting had gotten off to rather weird start.

* * *

The clock outside the conference room slowly ticked the seconds by. A long minute hand, sculpted out of black marble, rhythmically moved around its axis in single, gentle jerks. The hour hand did so as well; albeit at a slower pace. The timekeeper as a whole glinted subtly in the low, harsh light, but if one looked closer they would find that the shine was really from numbers of pure gold; engraved into a delicate yet solid looking face. The clock itself was a masterpiece, lending the hallway an air of tranquility that belonged to a museum instead of a bustling workplace.

In fact, the whole of Tomoeda Corporation was littered with these masterpieces…courtesy to the impeccable taste of Eriol Hiiragazawa, of course. The successful businessman was also an avid fan of art—a well-known fact amongst his employees.

Naoko Yanagisawa allowed herself a faint smile. She had become fond of that clock lately. The time she had spent being a receptionist within three metres of it had created some sort of bond, and she had grown used to it as well as everything around her. However, her reverie was soon broken as her earphones began emitting a round of sharp, startling beeps.

_Beep. Beep. **Beep.**_

Wincing slightly, she tucked a strand of straight, dark brown hair behind her ears and started to speak.

"Moshiiii _moshi, _this isTomoeda Corporation, how may I help you?"

Nodding, the young woman silently got herself a pen from a nearby stationary cup and prepared to scribble down details. However, her actions were cut off midway and she frowned slightly.

"…You want to speak to speak directly to Mr. Hiiragazawa?"

That was strange…normally people just requested to speak to the specified managers of certain departments…but the boss of the whole company? An unusual request indeed…

She sighed inwardly. This defeated her. Maybe she could divert the call to Tsukishiro's department—he at least had a better chance of getting through to the boss—

The unmistakable sound of idle chatter filtered through the hallway. Naoko's head snapped up, and she instinctively leaned forward. Obviously, the meeting had adjoined. Looking further, the young receptionist managed to spot Li and Hiiragazawa himself strolling slowly towards her, entertaining a stranger—probably the important guest she had heard a group of colleagues discuss about earlier.

…and how did she know this important piece of information?

Being a receptionist was like landing yourself smack in the middle of a gossip mill—plunked at hearing-range of every single conversation that passed by had it's advantages and disadvantages. It was not as if she _liked _knowing things, she just…knew. In all honesty, Naoko much preferred curling up with a good horror novel…but pleasure was pleasure, and work was work.

But seeing the group of three so conveniently coming this way…

Naoko smiled, grateful that she did not have to make that extra call after all.

"Please hold on, he'll receive your call in a minute. Thank you for waiting!"

Standing up from her seat, the young woman smoothed down the creases in her shirt before running after the suited gentleman. _High heeled shoes are a pain in the butt, _she grumbled to herself, breathing a sigh of relief once she reached them.

"Mr Hiiragazawa, call for you!"

* * *

"Please excuse me." 

Eriol Hiiragazawa nodded politely at the receptionist, then gave his cousin a look before heading towards the information counter.

Syaoran watched as Eriol took his leave. He also understood what he had to do, which was to entertain Kinomoto.

But since Hiiragazawa wasn't here…

…and there was noone around…

It wouldn't hurt to ask some non-business related questions, would it?

Putting a warm smile on his face, he turned to his charge, who was staring fixatedly at the carpeted floor.

"Kinomoto-san…you're the girl I met last week, am I right? By the vending machine near my apartment?"

Silence.

"…Kinomoto-san…?"

Silence.

Syaoran raised an eyebrow, contemplating what was happening. His charge was behaving in a decidedly strange way…

"_Kinomoto-san_?"

Silence once more.

He was growing more confused by the second. Why was she ignoring him? She had been fine throughout the meeting—in fact, it had gone fantastically well--

Growing more desperate for her attention, he spoke a little louder.

"**Kinomoto Sakura**!"

She finally looked up. However, her gaze was as cold as ice. Syaoran took a step back, intimidated.

"Don't call me that…"

Her features were steeled into emotionlessness, and the frost in her aura shocked him. Did he cross the line? But, all he did was call her name…

He reached out to touch her shoulder. "I'm sorry--"

…But he had barely moved a millimeter before her hand stopped him, clenching his wrist with a vice-like grip.

"Don't touch me…I don't know you…."

The few words, although short and curt, hurt him as if he had been stabbed by a knife. His wrist felt like it was on fire, but Syaoran no longer had the strength to wrench it away. All he could do was look at the woman in front of him in shock.

"You recognized me! I know you did! Y-you—at the beginning of the meeting…"

Sakura looked into his eyes. Her irises were no longer emerald but had hardened into a cold, calculative jade. The sudden change in personality scared him.

"I have never seen your face before. What makes you think…I know you?"

Then suddenly, the pressure was gone and before he could blink, she was halfway down the hallway. Her feet landed on the carpet in erratic thumps, and after a few seconds, Syaoran heard a door slam shut.

_The Ladies…?_

If he wasn't so traumatized, it would be funny. Instead, he was left wondering what in the world had happened. Her harsh words echoed in his head, and his heart reacted painfully. He shook his head.

_I don't know you…_

_Was she _schizophrenic_ or something?_

_And what was he still doing here!_

"Dammit!" He cursed, amber eyes narrowing. He didn't know why she reacted that way and why he felt hurt, somehow…but all he knew was that his charge, _his _responsibility, had just escaped from him, run down the hallway and taken refuge in the ladies' toilet!

Grumbling out another round of not-so-choice words, he started running.

Syaoran Li deserved an explanation, and he was going to get one no matter what the cost.

He also needed an extra-large black forest cappuccino with lots and lots of cream, but that would come at lunch break.

…Headache…

* * *

_**End, for now**_

_This totally killed me._

_Seriously, my brain just melted._

_Although nothing much happens this chapter._

_Ugh. -I- need that cappuccino._

_Though there're some interesting developments…_

_Has Sakura gone rabid?_

_Or is she just crazy?_

_Or both?_

_You'll know soon. Here's to hoping it's not too crappy.  
_

_I'm sorry for the lateness. Feel free to kill me. -wince-  
_

_Please review?_


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